My mutated life
by beccathepie
Summary: Who says Itex is the only evil cmpany in the world?
1. Chapter 1

Dear Diary,

If you could marry food I'd have married a big Mac long ago. I'd probably have eaten it before the ceremony but it's the thought that counts.

God! This is heaven! Especially after not eating for three days straight. I'm currently on my seventh. It's eating away at my cash fund but I couldn't care less at the moment. I know I'll regret it later but I'm just so hungry. I suppose this might seem a bit confusing... Okay here's the load down:

I'm a mutant. Human-avian variety.

I was created at the source of all evil. Otherwise known as 'The house' with hundreds of other 'Experiments', all genetically modified all undergoing 'tests' known as torture in civilised society.

Aged 5, Mr and Mrs Meyers (lab-coats from the house) rescued me, and were about to rescue the others but they got fired. They tried to raise me like their own, but it was a bit of a fail, I'd been through too much to ever trust them enough for it to work.

About a month ago they died. The police records say it was a heart attack. Funny, I thought the bullets in the brain that the biters (snake-human mutants, the house's private army) had shot at them.

The biter's had come for me, so of course I flew away as fast as my wings could carry me.

I don't know why I just told my diary that.

I was tucking in to my tenth big Mac when a man walked in. It was 11 O'clock at night and the manager was getting ready to pack up.

"Sorry sir but we're closing and we are no longer serving customers." He looked at me at this point and I gave him my-go-jump-of-a-bridge-and-don't-come-back face and he returned his attention to the man.

"I'm not here for your _filth. _I'm here for _her_." He pointed a bony finger at me. If he wasn't a biter then I'm Justin Bieber. I feel the need to name the man, and because he was so ugly I'm going to call him Voldemort. I'm that cool.

"I think you should know that this _girl_, is a wanted criminal and your... _establishment_ is surrounded by armed soldiers. I suggest you give her up and _you_" Voldemort turned to me "I suggest you come quietly."

"You can have her. Take her. Just don't hurt the restaurant. My boss'll kill me." Good to see you can still depend on the kindness of strangers.

"I haven't done anything!"

"It's not what you have done, but what you are capable of. Now are you going to come quietly or do we have to use force?"

"Or here's another option: you go die in a pit, and I can carry on with my dinner."

"They told me you'd put up a fuss."

"I wouldn't want to disappoint you now, would I?" and with that I gave him a quick roundhouse kick to the groin that would have hospitalized any normal man. 'Course, he wasn't any normal man, so as he went smashing into the wall he grabbed my foot and brought me down with him. Then there was a bit of a struggle as we both tried to stand up while keeping the other one down. Compared to the roundhouse-kick-and-smashing-into-the-wall-thing, this must of looked pretty lame. I would've been able to stand easy enough, but he wouldn't let go of my foot. I had a bit of a screw-this moment, and whipped out my wings. I kicked him in the face with my other foot, and flapped my wings a lot. I managed to wrench myself free and get out of there as fast as I could. The second I was outside, I gave a massive sweep of my wings and I was airborne. A run up is usually less painful, but I was more concerned about Voldy's back up. Just as I thought I got away, something whistled past the tip of my wing. Then it dawned on me. _Armed soldiers, probably had guns._ As more bullets came whistling past I span and looped as fast as I could keeping my wings in and getting as far away as I could. I saw some streetlights in the distance and began to head for those, continuing to duck dive and weave, away from the bullets. The sooner I got to a town the better. The shooting stopped and I looked down and nearly laughed. The biters couldn't cross the motorway so they'd been shooting at me from the side, but I'd just flown out of range. There is nothing funnier than seeing angry abandoned biters.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, It took longer than I thought to get to the town; by the time I got there it was about 6:00. It was a pretty basic suburban town, as people started to wake up; I began to walk and folded my wings in, so they were virtually invisible underneath the slits in my t-shirt. There was a laundrette, a post office, a Tesco, a pet shop and a sign welcoming me to Little Chalfont and to please die fully. I wandered around past some random Goth lady and a weird creeper man sitting outside the school. I bought a bag of chips from the chippie and sat on the bench at the bus stop, thinking about what to do. Yeah that's right. I was having a large bag of chips at 6:00 in the morning after eating 10 big Macs, only a few hours before. But then again, near death experiences can take a lot out of you. Across the road there was a 50 year old couple. They were going on holiday by the looks of things.

"Don't bring the key with you, you'll just lose it."

"How would we get back in the house then?"

"For god's sake Henry, leave it under the mat, we'll miss the flight if you're not careful."

"If you hadn't wasted so much time getting ready..." They got in the taxi. The key was under the mat. That was almost too easy. It was quite a nice house, there was probably food in the fridge and it was empty. I crossed the road got the key from under the mat and went into the house.

After a quick scout around the house I saw it was empty, there was a full fridge and a really big bed upstairs. After finishing my chips I flopped on to the cushy mattress and fell asleep

For some reason I woke with a start. I listened hard and then I heard it. There were at least 5 male voices coming from downstairs.

Crap.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear diary,

I know I just had a cliff hanger in my own mind, and then didn't right for ages but I have been extraordinarily busy.

Last time I wrote, there were voices downstairs, right? I grabbed my rucksack and hid in the wardrobe. I may be able to kick anyone I like's arse but I don't go looking for a fight. My heart started to thump more than normal as I heard the voices get closer and closer.

"Greg, help me lift this will ya?"

"Sure thing mate, Tommy and Johnny take the bed, put that in the back of the van, this goes at the front."

I felt the wardrobe get lifted up. Thank god I don't weigh too much.

Were they burglars? I really couldn't tell whether I should protect the house, this stuff wasn't mine, and technically I'd just broken and entered which could get me in a real pickle.

"Bill, where's this lot going then?"

"Greg I've told you before, Texas."

"I've been to Texas. Not a lot there. A lot of cactuses. But that's it."

"Greg you don't have a passport, I don't think you've ever been to Texas."

"I've seen it on the telly though."

"For the last time. They are NOT THE SAME THING."

Greg grumbled and the wardrobe bumped along.

"Why are two 50 year old' moving to Texas?"

"Apparently they want a change of scenery, so they bought a proper cattle ranch. To be honest I don't think they'll cope."

I felt a bump as they put me down.

"Why do you think that?"

I heard a slam as the van door slammed shut. I burst out of the wardrobe gasping for air, and immediately looking for a way out. I hate tight spaces.

There weren't any windows, obviously, and you could only open the door from the outside. I was stuck with some random fifty year olds furniture.

Great.

From the sounds of things we were going to Texas, so I got back onto the cushy bed and slept. Occasionally I would wake up and grab some food from the bags I found. It was all stuff that wouldn't go off, raisins, olives, pickles, I also found a sausage that was ok (it was cold but there wasn't mould coming off it) no bacon though. I love bacon. And MacDonald's. But which is better. Only one way to find out. FIGHT!

...

...

...

Moving on...

It was pretty boring ride. I noticed us get on the boat after a couple of hours of sleeping and eating. I found their bookshelf and read random books from there. It was split into two sections; I'm guessing husband and wife. The wife's books all sounded like porn, which was really wrong and I wanted to go and burn my eyes but the husbands books were so boring I think I died a couple of times.

In the end I settled for a Sudoku book I found behind one of the leather sofas. That took me a couple of hours. At this point I'd eaten my sausage, raisins, olives and pickles, and all I was left with was a strange mushroom thing. I was so hungry I was tempted to eat it. Even though I hate mushrooms. Particularly if I don't know whether they're mushrooms or not. It did look pretty rank.

Luckily I didn't eat the mushroom thing because I heard us land.

I decided I needed a lot of rest before we got to Texas so after a quick tidy up of the van I went to sleep again.

I heard some more voices made the bed and got back into the wardrobe in about 3 seconds. Damn I good.

I heard more voices but I didn't pay any attention to them. I felt the wardrobe get lifted up and put back down on solid ground. I resisted my urge to jump out and yell WELCOME TO NARNIA! And instead opened the door a crack and snuck a peak. When none of them were looking I jumped out and hid behind the chest of draws. When the cost was clear again I jumped up and flew as hard as I could straight upwards. The removal men didn't see me; they were too involved in their work to look upwards.

I'm in a cave right now. I grabbed a ready meal from a dustbin and I'm eating it cold. I'm surprised how little I care about the fact I'm in America now, but I suppose it will make it harder for the house to find me. I'm feeling a little exhausted even though I've basically done nothing since I got here.

But hey, this is a new beginning, new continent.

What could possibly go wrong?


	3. Chapter 3

Dear diary,

You know what it's like, you're flying along minding your own business, when suddenly a giant missile, that could probably blow up most of Europe, and you have to fly like hell, even though it's heat seeking and can follow your every move?

Seriously, you don't? Wow, for a diary you don't get out much...

If you haven't guessed already that's what just happened.

I'm not too good at my USA geography, but I'd been flying for about 10 days, in a North-westerly direction, I would say that I was in Arizona at the time.

I reckon that's pretty good for a girl who didn't know that New Mexico wasn't _actually_ in Mexico.

It was a bit of a disappointment when I found out though.

No offence to people from New Mexico, It was nice and all... but it wasn't Mexico... I saw no llamas or ponchos... it's just not the same...

I suppose I should get back to the missile thing now...

Yeah that would probably be a good idea... don't know how I got so far off track there...

So I was flying through the sky, being normal mutant me, when this bloody big (blame my British routes) missile came charging straight after me! I nose dived, I dipped, I flew like a freaking maniac to get out of the way, but it must have been heat/movement seeking because I just couldn't get away from it. I decided to risk being seen by dipping from above the clouds, only to find... well... I hate to be melodramatic and cliché... but it was literally... Nowhere...

So I started to nosedive into the ground, and sure enough the missile (did I mention it was bloody HUGE?) began to follow me...

I was a nose tip away from having the worst face plant EVER, when I unfolded my wings and half ran half skidded across the ground as fast as I could.

Yeah. I'm a legend like that.

Needless to say a BLOODY HUGE MISSILE, couldn't half skid half run, or do a perfect U-turn like I just did.

Needless to say, with BLOODY HUGE MISSILES come BLOODY HUGE EXPLOSIONS.

Needless to say BLOODY HUGE EXPLOSIONS have BLOODY HUGE FIRE BALLS.

And let me tell you, it may look cool, and James bond-ish, but getting flung forwards by a (BLOODY HUGE) fire ball is not fun. It hurts like hell.

And when I thought it couldn't get any worse, a dark shape fell out of the sky.

_And to top it off, I've killed a bird._

But that was one hell of a big bird...

_Oh dear God. It's a boy. I must have blown up a plane. This means there will be more boys. It will literally be raining men. Wait, I've just blown up a plane, that's really inappropriate. Wait, unless he was flying an invisible plane, by himself, shouldn't there be other bodies? And a plane? Wait, he's got something stuck to his back. He's gonna hit the ground pretty hard unless I..._

The boy hit the ground with so much force a crater appeared in the dirt.

_...Catch him...oops._

I ran over to see whether he was ok, folding in my wings at the same time.

"Nuuuggg...izdatyhoomax?" He grumbled.

Holy Cow in a parachute. He was alive!

"Dude, what was that?"

"Skydiving gone wrong. A movie. Whatever you think it was, it was. I got to go now."

He turned to leave.

"That would have worked, but you left something that was a bit of a giveaway."

"What are you...?"

He drifted off as I opened my own wings.

He glanced at his dropping at his sides.

"Who are you?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Fang. Fang Ride."


End file.
